


New Beginings

by KirscheLeibling



Series: The Time of Gods and Monsters [2]
Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Beginings, Bickering, It's like little kid love, Jealousy, M/M, Memories, Pre-Slash, clueless, start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirscheLeibling/pseuds/KirscheLeibling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all intents and purposes it starts here, in the lab, with Tony and Bruce leaning over some new testing samples, Steve standing perfectly out of place in the doorway, something akin to <i>envy</i> in his eyes. It starts with those childish fights. It starts with those quick glimpses past the harsh exterior. It starts with Tony and Steve, not Iron man and Captain America</p><p>It starts here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginings

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [New Beginings / Новое начало](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772292) by [sverhanutaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sverhanutaya/pseuds/sverhanutaya)



> This story is before "Fall"

_It starts here._

Tony is ogling at something on the work table, an uncharacteristically animated, chipper Bruce beside him. The two are so close their shoulders are bumping, their elbows keep jostling and bright laughter echoes in the grand room, drowning out the usual whirling-clicking-humming of the machines. Bruce nervously runs a hand through his hair and huffs out a little laugh as Tony quirks a grin. The two seem awfully calm and chummy, completely oblivious to the frozen Super-Soldier that's standing in the doorway.

Steve remains silent, for the most part, and just _stares_ for what seems like the longest while. His eyes dart to each smile, each hand gesture and most critically, where ever they _touch_. Steve, well to be completely honest, he feels like he's interrupting something private,  a moment between two scientists, two brilliant minds, two _friends_ that he hadn't noticed had more in common than he'd like to admit.

~~If Steve is honest he kind of feels like this really is personal, that he's jealous that _Banner_ gets grins and jokes and slight brushes and all he gets is terse silence and awkward glances. ~~

But Steve is human (modified but still human) and it's that mortality that gives him the right to lie sometimes, even when it's to himself.

And so Steve remains, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he should speak up or do something but there's no words coming to him, like the ability to formulate syllables into words has fled. The two continue to chatter and chuckle and have fun and Steve watches with the sickening dawning of an epiphany on his features, wide blue eyes and gaping mouth because-- _Christ--_

 _\--_ it starts here.

 

I.

 

It starts now, this bitter grudging camaraderie that is really, really much less than that, even. It's more like tolerating each other's presence for the sake of the team, for the Avengers because Steve is like a soldier mom: he helps make up the tactics, he takes care of the team, makes sure they're taken care of whereas Tony is like that groovy dad that helps you blow shit up, pulls you out of tight spaces, is always there (even when you don't need him, like he knows that something may go wrong) and still manages to seem aloof and unguarded, like he doesn't know he's doing it.

So of course they clash. More often than not when they're together, they're fighting and when they're fighting their typically across each other, face to face, eye to eye and spiting venom at each other like one of those vipers that slipped through one fo those experimental portals to Asgard Jane is so fond of opening. Tony gets this glint in his eyes that's fierce and strong that shows what kind of a man he really is (under that 'tough guy, fast cars hard brandy' exterior everyone is blind sighted by). He's determined and wiser and tactful, he knows just what to do, what words to say and he won't back down from a challenge.

Steve doesn't even remember so it'd be fruitless to ask what they fight about. All he wants is to see that hard glint, those cheeks barely flushed with frustration because Tony may be stubborn but Steve jumped out of a plane against the government's orders with no prior training--so he's more stubborn than Stark.

It starts here.

 

II.

 

The first time Tony mentions something about Stark enterprises _or_ any sense of his true self it's with a low grouse, a drawn out complaint that's lost to the darkness of the night. Steve is leaning under the windowsill, sketchbook over his criss-crossed legs, a soft charcoal pencil tucked in his ear, a kneaded eraser beside his foot, a compressed charcoal stick resting on the heavy pages. He can't tell if he dozed off at some point or if he's been too immersed in thought but suddenly there is no moonlight in the window and Tony Stark is leaning back against the door frame between the living room and the dining room, in a sleek black suit, jacket tossed on a chair in the foreground and white dress shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned from the collar, his tie loose around his exposed throat and collar bone, all washed in the dim blue light of his arc reactor.

"Stupid fucking billionaire _ass holes_ can't even see that he had a point, fucking _heartless_ cheapskates" Tony groans and he sounds tired as hell./ "I mean--where did I go wrong, since when was stopping death machines a _bad_ thing, stupid pompous pricks." Tony growls out and Steve hears the thud of his head hitting the door frame.

"Did I...was I wrong?" Tony whispers and his body slides down so he's sitting, back against the frame and his head is tilted back, his eyes wistful and slightly sad.

This man can't be Tony Stark.

"I mean...Howard was...no. No, this is fucking stupid. I know that what I did was right." Tony affirms.

He's cold in the shadows, silent and watching ~~and his heart breaks to see Tony so unsure and insecure~~ as Tony berates himself then rebuilds his confidence only to shatter it once more. Steve almost misses the way Tony's fingers absentmindedly brush the glass cover of the arc reactor and the almost whisper that follows.

"Are you proud of me now?"

But no one answers and Tony laughs morosely at himself and shakes his head. Steve doesn't realize that his hand had been moving and that lines and curves have formed a person, how light scratches of black became hatching and cross hatching of the shadows of the man that Isn't-but- _is_ -Tony Stark. Tony mumbles to himself before leaving the room entirely.

"Of course not. You never where."

Steve closes his eyes and breathes out.

It starts now.

 

III.

 

The first time Steve sees the arc reactor it's by accident. He doesn't speak a word, just forces Tony back down on the ground and rips off ribbons of his white t-shirt (his favorite, really, but it's stained with blood and completely ruined anyway) and clumsily tries to apply pressure to any of the three bullet wounds on Tony's person: his right shoulder, the more than graze of his right ribs and his left thigh. Tony fights and groans and grumbles but doesn't necessarily tell Steve to get off. Which is good, because the idiot jumped in the line of fire and he's not in his _suit_ and really, Steve can handle himself--

"Force of...habit." Tony grinds out between clenched teeth, looking up at the sky rather than at Steve,

Which is fine, really. Steve is not a little hurt at all. Or worried. That'd be unbecoming of the team leader.

You can't prove anything, anyway.

"You idiot. You're an idiot, you know that?" Steve murmurs as he completely yanks down Tony's button up shirt and wraps it around the man's thigh, the shirt filling out in crimson quickly.

Steve swallows the knot in his throat.

His own safety isn't worth Tony getting hurt.

"No...'thank you'?" Tony teases. "No, don't worry I fully understand." Tony Mock-pouts through the pain.

Well Tony's alive enough to still do that, so that's a good sign. Steve relaxes a bit and presses his palm to Tony's thigh, against the bandage but he can't help but feel the heat though the two layers of cloth. The pressure is just a tad too much, however, and Tony groans and arches his back, bites his lip and sends Steve a beseeching look.

Steve pointedly ignores Tony's eyes until the ambulance arrives. He joins Tony in the small compartment, leaves his hand on Tony's uninjured shoulder and leaves it there. He can't come up with words to comfort, but the small gesture is enough.

"Thank you."

It's not clear who is saying it.

The faint smile on Tony's lips is worth the frustration.

It starts here.

 

IV.

 

It's not "Captain".

Steve doesn't know why he notices this one mundane Wednesday evening. With everyine it's always "Cap" this or "Captain" that, and it shouldn't bother him really, being that he _is_ Captain America.

He wonders if that's all they see him as.

"You know, Rogers, there's a lot out there that's changed. But there's still a lot that's the same, really." Tony says offhandedly the next morning. "You just have to know where to look." It's one of those rare moments where they aren't fighting, and even rarer is that no one else is around. Steve is honestly and completely surprised and he turns to look at Tony, in some jeans and a faded "Judas Priest" shirt, sunglasses and a bowl of Fruit Loops.

Steve is confused as to why a part of his brain finds this whole situation...endearing.

Before he stops himself, Steve says "call me Steve". There's a terse moment of silence between them before Tony's lips quirk into a small smile.

"Then call me Tony"

There's something in the phrase that stirs Steve's memory, like a vague dream he can't remember. Tony grins and returns to the kitchen to finish his breakfast and it takes Steve a few seconds to realize that he's smiling back.

It starts here.

 

****  
_Interlude_  


The first time Steve finds Tony in his workshop, he was simply following the blaring, raunchy music that seemed to be exploding from every pore of the mansion. He took the steps two at a time, the glass doors slid across seamlessly and stared at the figure at the workbench a few meters ahead. Tony was bobbing his head, wearing an oil-stained white muscle shirt, his chest partially lit blue and his eyes glued to the bauble in his hands like it might just explode (which was an actual possibility, sadly).

Steve couldn't explain why he stopped mid-stride into the room at the sight but he just kind of did because Tony had that same determined glint in his eyes and looked a little flushed, his lips moving with the lyrics of the song ( _No there ain't no rest for the wicked Until we close our eyes for good--_ ) and His posture was relaxed, his entire body radiating comfort and peace and Steve wished he had something at hand to try and even recreate that kind of serenity--

\--but remembered the last used page of Tony in a disheveled tuxedo, looking quite downcast yet equally serene and blushed so hard his face felt on fire before hightailing it completely.

 

V.

 

There's no one familiar and the people he _is_ familiar with are all dead and he's suffering under the weight of this new life he's living, drowning in the regrets and missing years of those that he loved and it's like they're there, wrapping the ghost of their memories around him and he's suffocating, can't breath because it's been _seventy years_ he should be dead, he shouldn't be here--

"Calm down, please, Rogers, _calm down._ "

But there's that familiar voice that's soothing him even in his sleep, a warm, calloused hand that's flat on his forehead, cooling his fever with their heat and shoving those fears and memories and haunting with only his tone and touch. He cracks an eye open and it's like the past only modern: Howard as he would look in this day and age but it's not him, not Howard Stark, but a close resemblance even when Steve thinks there's no resemblance at all.

"W-What?" Steve croaks and then he sees the doctors, all the wires and machines and needles and he almost jumps off the bed but the warm hand moved down to his chest and presses there.

"Calm down, Captain Rogers, just lay down and take a few breaths. Everything is okay, they're just checking your health." The man says and his lips curl up into a little smile, pleased. Steve feels inclined to believe him, even for the moment. A voice that's further away says something and The man makes to leave but Steve's hand catches his wrist.

They meet eyes, Steve taking in the swirl of emotions in those expressive dark eyes before grinding out," please, stay." The man hesitates for a heart wrenching moment before nodding and taking Steves hand in his.

"Okay." Tony says, giving it a little squeeze. "Alright. I'm Tony" He--no, _Tony_ says, and Steve looks at their connected hands before turning back to face the ceiling, and for once it feels like he can breath again.

"I'm Steve."

 

_It starts here._

**Author's Note:**

> Because _yes_ I see Tony in a Judas Priest Shirt. You can't tell me you can't! And the song is "Ain't no Rest for the Wicked" by Caged the Elephant


End file.
